


A Quiet Retirement

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Sussex Retirement [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson muses on his long-term relationship with Holmes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mutual Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's Older Not Dead comm, Established Relationships prompathon.
> 
> Each chapter takes one prompt.

It should be evident to all those who read my various tales in The Strand magazine that Holmes and I were close. Insofar as Mr Sherlock Holmes was capable of making friendship, most readers would assume we were friends and enjoyed each others’ company. Most would suspect no more, although those whom I deemed to be friends, especially Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, almost certainly knew, although neither made reference to it.

I, of course, was known to be attracted to the fairer sex, and I still mourn the death of my dear Mary. To this day, I miss her, and although another now holds my affections, this does not detract from my feelings for my beloved wife. If one’s relationship boils down to the sexual act, then one is building on particularly unstable ground. For me, there were several affairs of the heart, but only two which stood the test of time.

I am not sure what Holmes first found in me which attracted him. It may be he himself is not entirely sure. Suffice to say, he made no mention of it before the disastrous day at the Reichenbach Falls. As a true gentleman I would not have expected him to say anything whilst I was married, but I do not believe he was aware of the attraction at the time.

However, on his return, matters changed. His absence had made clear to him he wished to be with me and his encouragements to move back to my old rooms in Baker Street were not only those I recorded in my tales. How he knew I would not be adverse to the idea I do not know, but he was ever the observer of human nature, and in me he was not mistaken.

Holmes was not a demonstrative man, so there was little to fear we would give ourselves away in public. I am given to more physical demonstrations and even now am not averse to offering my arm to any lady in need. Although nowadays they must be prepared to walk at a rather slower pace and may perhaps be assisting me, rather than the other way. However, I am also of the ex-rugby playing, military type, for whom the occasional pat on the shoulder and hearty handshake are acceptable behaviour, so I have never had my behaviour with Holmes commented upon.

Indeed, although we enjoy a certain physical closeness when we are alone together, this is by no means the mainstay of our relationship. There is an understanding between us, which even I, a writer, find difficult to put into words. A look may pass between us when Holmes has been called to help at a crime scene; we may be at a concert and Holmes, swept up with the music will touch my arm; we may be having dinner at Simpsons and look at each other across the table and smile because the same thought has occurred to both of us. Such minor events, and yet each time we know we share our inmost being with each other.

That is how Lestrade discovered our relationship. He caught the glances and observed the way we responded to each other. Holmes may accuse him of not observing, but he does, it may just take him rather longer. Lestrade has been happily married for many years – the joyous brood of junior Lestrades bearing testimony to this fact. On one occasion he confided to me the way Holmes and I understood each other was similar to that of him and his wife. He said no more, but let me draw my own conclusions. I have always been grateful we have been able to rely on his silence.

Our relationship is such we did not even discuss the question of retirement when it came. Our discussion revolved around where we would be retiring to. We had our disagreements, for no solid relationship is free of these, where each party has their own like and dislikes. But we were able to settle on a property which would suit us both. Again, each of us made concessions, whilst ensuring we would both be happy in our final choice.

I may never be able to summarise what exactly draws me to Holmes and him to me, but I know when we are apart I feel as if I am incomplete and from the letters Holmes writes to me, although he does not express this, he too feels the same.

 


	2. Beekeeping (and Gardening)

It was about a month after we had moved into our cottage when Holmes announced he intended to take up beekeeping. I was not surprised. For the past year or so he had been reading assiduously about the life of the honey bee and now it seemed he was ready to put his theories into practice.

He met with a number of the local beekeepers and listened to their advice. He questioned them when their practice did not align with the ideas he had read, and made his decisions as to the type of equipment he should purchase. He insisted I accompany him when he met the gentleman who was to provide him with his first colony. At one point in their discussion Holmes grew more strident with regard to some of the newer practices, while the elderly gentleman had reservations. However, my murmured “Norbury” was sufficient to cause Holmes to rein in his enthusiasm for innovation.

I was delegated to find a suitable gardener who would bring some order into the area around the cottage; during the months it had been uninhabited prior to our purchase it had started to become overgrown. Holmes wished to grow plants suitable for his bees, whilst I had a longing for a flower garden. The two suggested gardeners had their own ideas, which we felt would not produce the results we desired, so I made my way to the local public house to see if I could find someone suitable there.

The locals, although still wary of me as a newcomer, were happy to discuss my need over a pint or two. The consensus of opinion was that Seth would be the ideal person for the job. Seth wasn’t present at the time, but I was assured he would call between two or three o’clock the following afternoon.

It was just after two that an elderly one-armed gentleman, slightly older than myself, knocked on the cottage door. He introduced himself as Seth and I started to feel the locals had wished to trick me. Nevertheless I invited him in and offered him a cup of tea. He followed me through to the kitchen and sat down at the table, where he asked me what the plans were for the garden.

I explained we wished to remove a number of the overgrown bushes and open up the garden. He must have caught the doubt in my voice regarding his ability to undertake such heavy work one-handed, because he interrupted me to explain his situation. He would help with the choice of plants and some of the lighter work, whilst his two grandsons would come to do the digging.

Once we had drunk our tea we went outside so I could show Seth our plot and go into greater detail as to what we wished to do. He was extremely knowledgeable about plants suitable for bees and had a number of suggestions as to what we could do. I fetched my notebook and wrote them down so I could discuss them later with Holmes. As we wandered around the plot I learnt Seth was an old soldier, another veteran of Afghanistan, which is where he had lost his arm. Since the death of his wife he had lived with his daughter and grandsons, his son-in-law having been killed in a farming accident.

We moved round to the front of the cottage, which was where I hoped to establish a flower garden. Seth mentioned various plants as being possibilities and rather hesitatingly I mentioned impatiens and wondered if it could be included.

Seth looked at me and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “A nice big clump by the front door. Petunias were my Alice’s favourite flowers and I continue to grow them every year.”

I thanked him for his time, promised to buy him a pint next time we were both in The Bull, and arranged when he would bring his grandsons round to start work. I offered to pay him for his time, for we had spent all afternoon talking about plants, but he assured me the pint would be sufficient. We agreed a very reasonable rate for the two lads and parted company.

I had spent such a pleasant afternoon I had not realised how much bending and stooping I had done as Seth and I had inspected the garden. It was not until later, when I started to groan, Holmes suggested a bath might ease some of my aches. I remonstrated, saying we had not yet discussed our plans for the garden and I wanted our decisions to have made by the time Seth returned. Holmes’ solution was that he would bring a chair into the bathroom and we could have our discussion while I was taking my bath.

We discussed plants whilst I took my bath and then in return Holmes had his bath and told me about the imminent arrival of his bees. After which we made our way together to the master bedroom.


	3. An Old Case

Holmes had received a letter from Inspector Hopkins a few days before, in which he had asked if he could call on us, since he wished to consult Holmes on an old case. Holmes had replied in the affirmative and we were both looking forward to seeing the inspector again.

Hopkins had telegraphed the arrival time of his train and Holmes had arranged for him to be met at the station. It was therefore less than thirty minutes later we heard his knock on our front door. I went to open the door and Hopkins greeted me warmly.

“Dr Watson, you are looking well,” Hopkins began. “Mr Holmes said in his letter you had been much occupied with your garden of late and clearly the fresh air has benefitted you. And your garden is looking beautiful; you must be very pleased with it.”

“Thank you, my dear fellow,” I replied. “Come on in, Holmes is in the sitting room.”

I showed Hopkins into our cottage, and he and Holmes shook hands. Hopkins enquired after Holmes’ bees and Holmes promised to take him to see the hives later. I asked Hopkins as to the health of his wife and family, to be told they were all well and his wife was expecting again. He expressed the fervent hope he would have another son, which we would have taken seriously had we not known how much he doted on his daughters.

Once the pleasantries were over, Holmes said, “Now Hopkins, let us turn to the matter which brings you down here. I presume it is to do with the Crabshaw case.”

“Still as sharp as ever, Mr Holmes,” Hopkins replied. “I have to admit I was not sure you would have heard about it.”

“We may be living in the country, but we do still receive the papers,” Holmes said with a smile. “I have not yet given up my habit of reading the smaller articles on the inside pages.”

“In which case I presume I do not need to tell you why I have come?”

“There are a number of similarities between this case and the Honeybourne Field case you worked on some seven years ago.”

“It’s nearer ten years now, but you are correct.”

“And you are concerned the wrong man may have been jailed.” Holmes looked almost affectionately at the younger man. I could have been jealous were I not sure of my own place in Holmes’ heart, besides also knowing of Hopkins’ deep love for his wife. (One day perhaps I shall record how they met, for it is as intriguing a tale as when I met my Mary).

Hopkins nodded. “I would not wish to have caused an innocent man to be incarcerated, especially since he died in prison. I cannot see I made a mistake, but I fear I have missed something.”

“Rest assured, Honeybourne Field was guilty of the crimes he was accused of. On this occasion, you should not dwell on the similarities, but concentrate on the differences. Whoever has committed this felony has learnt from the Field case, but adapted the ideas for his own use.”

Hopkins looked thoughtful. “You will no doubt have read of the distinctive footprints which were found at the scene, in the same way Field deliberately left footprints.”

Holmes agreed. “This was stressed by the article writer. I presume the footprints were not identical?”

“No, they weren’t. The differences were not revealed to the press. And now you have confirmed the cases are not linked except as one being a copy of the other, I shall be confident in making further enquiries in that direction.” Hopkins stood up. “Thank you very much, Mr Holmes for your assistance. I believe if I leave now I shall be able to catch the last train back to London.”

I was slightly disappointed, for I knew Holmes had invited Hopkins to spend the night and I was looking forward to talking about old times with him.

Fortunately Holmes seemed to share my opinion. “My dear fellow, must you leave so soon? You appear to have brought an overnight bag and I would very much like to show you my bees.”

“I would be delighted to stay,” Hopkins replied, “but I do not wish to cause you gentlemen any trouble.”

“It will be no trouble at all,” I said. “There is even a bed you can use, rather than having to sleep on the sofa, as you were forced to do in Baker Street.”

Hopkins smiled. “In which case, I am extremely happy to accept your invitation.”

Hopkins would no doubt work out he was sleeping in my bed, whilst I shared with Holmes. He had known us for so long we did not think this would come as any surprise.


End file.
